


A Quantum of Solace

by Rebecca



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Friendship, Gen, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-12
Updated: 2010-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebecca/pseuds/Rebecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis used to like Christmas. After Val's death, however, everything has changed...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quantum of Solace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lalaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith/gifts).



> I had so much fun re-watching the series; I'm in love all over again! ♥ I hope it shows a bit. Happy Yuletide, Lalaith!
> 
> Many many thanks to k. for beta!

**Lewis used to like Christmas.** For him, it had always been a time to celebrate love and selflessness, but most of all it had been a time to celebrate the love he felt for his family. It had been the season to think about his loved ones and to spend some quality time with them, be it searching for presents, singing Christmas carols together or decorating the Christmas tree. Lewis was a family person and had never really understood how people could _not_ like Christmas.

After Val's death, however, everything had changed. Suddenly, all the things that used to fill him with glee only emphasised what he had lost. There was, for example, the smell of cinnamon that wafted out of his neighbour's flat, conjuring bittersweet memories of Val baking Christmas biscuits. Or the Christmas ornaments displayed in shop windows, painfully reminding him of the cardboard boxes with Christmas decorations that he had stowed away in a cupboard and that he hadn't had the heart to touch without Val's company.

It had been easier in the Virgin Islands. It wasn't hard to ignore Christmas when you were running around in short sleeves and worrying about mosquito bites instead of huddling into thick coats and fighting frozen windshields. Although the British colonists had brought their Christmas traditions and Christmas carols with them to the BVIs, it had been possible to escape most of what he usually associated with the holidays. Of course, volunteering for holiday shifts and drowning the remaining time in brandy had helped, too.

Being back in Oxford for what used to be his favourite time of the year was hard. Christmas was forced upon him wherever he went, he had resolved not to drink himself into oblivion anymore, and Superintendent Innocent insisted that he took the holidays off if at all possible. Lewis was half-hoping that a convenient dead body would show up, but that was not only cynical but also unfair to his colleagues who longed for a quiet week.

On the morning of the 24th, Lewis's mood had reached a preliminary low point. The stack of paperwork he had to work through only made things worse; he wondered for the umpteenth time why the closing of a case always entailed so many reports. Just when he cursed his computer fervently for not putting the data into the right field, there was a polite knock on the door and Laura Hobson entered the office.

"Hey," she said and beamed at him, mischievous wrinkles forming around her eyes.

"Hey," he answered.

"Rumour has it that our heroes have caught the murderer, just in time for Christmas. Congratulations!"

Lewis only scowled and turned his attention back to his screen, but Hathaway perked up in his seat. "Thank you!" he said cheerfully.

"So, all set for the holidays?" Laura asked.

Lewis sighed and rubbed his face. "No, not really. I'll be alone anyway. Mark's still in Australia, and Lyn's working day shifts the whole week."

"Oh," Laura said thoughtfully, biting her lip. "You know, I'll have family over at my place, you’d be very welcome. There will be so much food that we’d be glad to have another person help us eat it all."

"Thanks, Laura, but I'm fine on my own."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm so knackered I'll probably just sleep through the next few days. And it's high time that I catch up with several weeks’ worth of ironing."

Lewis patted the front of his rumpled shirt self-consciously and managed a weak smile. Laura nodded. He could tell that she wasn't entirely convinced, but she let the topic drop, wished them both a merry Christmas and left. As much as Lewis appreciated the sentiment, the idea of sitting through Christmas dinner with a family he didn't even know was probably the last thing he needed. He feared the memories all the Christmas rituals would bring back, and least of all he wanted to spoil Laura's party by being a sentimental old fool. Besides, he really _had_ neglected his housework and the needs of his body during their latest case.

Lost in thought as he was, it took a while for Lewis to realise that Hathaway hadn't resumed working since Laura had left, but was eyeing him with mild curiosity.

"What?" Lewis snapped, but Hathaway only shrugged.

Lewis reminded himself that it wasn't Hathaway's fault that he had become such a Grinch and that the poor lad really deserved better after the hard work of the last few days.

"How are you spending Christmas, then?" Lewis asked in an attempt to make up for his horrible mood.

"I'll drive to my parents' tonight. We're going to midnight mass together, and tomorrow we’re hosting the dinner, so it’s presents, relatives visiting, lots of food, and even more drink."

"That sounds nice," Lewis said.

"I'm thrilled." Hathaway's voice made it clear that he was anything but.

There was nothing Lewis felt he could add to that, so he turned back to the computer and continued typing his report.

* * *

Lewis slept like a log that night, but only after he had given in and taken a sleeping pill. Even with the aid of medication, though, he was wide awake by 7 a.m.; he found that the older he got, the less he was able to sleep in, regardless if it was his day off or not. Thus it was still early by the time he finished breakfast and pulled out the ironing board. Unfortunately, however large the pile of shirts, ironing could only occupy him for so long, as could vacuuming, scrubbing the bath and cleaning the kitchen. By the time his small flat was as clean as it would ever get, it was still early afternoon. He would have to kill another couple of hours before he could consider going to bed.

Lewis flopped down on the sofa and wondered what to do. He didn't feel like watching Christmas specials on the telly, and nearly every channel would shortly be occupied with the Queen’s speech, anyway. He picked up the book Lyn had sent him, but he couldn't really concentrate. He caught himself glancing at the clock every so often, not being able to stop imagining what Val, the kids and he would have been doing at the time.

He was just thinking that by now, they would have probably dug out the board games, when the doorbell rang. Opening the door, he was surprised to see Hathaway leaning against the door-frame, a bottle of wine in one hand and a plastic bag in the other.

"What for God's sake are you doing here?" he asked, but made room for Hathaway nonetheless.

"I'm glad to see you, too, sir," Hathaway replied dryly and slipped past Lewis into the flat. Holding up the bag, he added, "I thought you might be interested in something decent to watch."

"I believed you were at your parents'," Lewis grumbled.

"I was."

"You didn't have ditch your family just to pay me a visit. Honestly, I'm fine!"

Well, maybe 'fine' was not the right word, but still, Hathaway should have stayed at home.

Hathaway snorted. "I can count myself lucky that I escaped. Telling them that I was going to see someone was the only way they'd let me go."

"Ah," said Lewis, unsure what to make of that. Then he shrugged and decided that, now that Hathaway was here anyway, he could just as well enjoy the company. Watching films with his colleague wasn't exactly how he'd imagined his ideal Christmas day, but it was still much better than being alone and trying desperately not to get depressed.

"Well, then, what d'you have?" he asked and pointed at the plastic bag.

"James Bond boxset. And Aunt Lucy's cinnamon biscuits."

While Hathaway took the DVDs and busied himself with Lewis's TV set, Lewis searched the kitchen for a corkscrew and rang the local curry house for a take-away. The wine Hathaway had brought was a good one, he noticed, but then Hathaway had pretty good taste. Curry probably wouldn't be a good match for it, but they didn't have a lot of choice at the moment. When he carried the wine, glasses and biscuits to the coffee table, Hathaway was already lounging on the sofa and flipping through the DVD menu.

"Curry's on the way." Lewis said.

"Thanks, sir. Sean Connery okay for you?"

"All the same to me," Lewis said as he settled down next to Hathaway and poured the wine. "I have to admit, though, I've never had you down as a James Bond fan."

"Well, I have hidden depths," Hathaway intoned dramatically.

Lewis had to smile despite himself; 'hidden depths' was quite an understatement. He watched as Hathaway started the movie and the opening scene rolled across the TV, realising that he'd never got around to wish Hathaway happy holidays. He cleared his throat to redeem the situation. "Jim...? Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Hathaway replied with a grin.

That evening, they made it through two movies and the whole bottle of wine. Hathaway's running commentary got funnier with each glass he drank, and Lewis found he hadn't laughed that much in too long a time. When Hathaway finally popped the DVD out of the player, Lewis was exhausted by the alcohol and the laughing, but it was a good exhaustion, the sort of contend and sated fatigue that let you doze off as soon as your head touched the pillow. He was sure he wouldn't need sleeping pills that night.

"I gotta go," Hathaway said finally, a bit awkwardly, fiddling with the DVD box.

Lewis nodded and got up. Yawning, he accompanied Hathaway to the door.

"Jim, I..." Lewis gestured vaguely in the direction of his living room. "Well, thank you." Because really, he had had a far better evening than he could possibly have hoped for.

Hathaway broke into a pleased smile, one of his rare ones that was sincere and happy, and most of the times suppressed far too soon.

"Thank _you_ for being such an excellent excuse," he said.

"Is your family really that bad?"

"They’re okay. If only they hadn't somehow missed the memo that I'm not a child anymore. Every year I have to listen to variations on how tall I’m getting, and could I play some Christmas carols on the piano, and do I have a girlfriend. And it gets only worse once Mum has had some eggnog."

"Kids grow up faster than you can believe," Lewis said.

Hathaway shrugged. "Though they _do_ believe I've a girlfriend now." He looked at Lewis mischievously. "Mum asked me to send her love to you, and to invite you over for next year."

"What?"

But before Lewis's brain had caught up, Hathaway had made his exit, which, he supposed, was just as well.

* * *

 **His second year back in Oxford,** Lewis still wasn't too keen about Christmas. But now at least he could look at the shop displays without getting depressed, which was a start and very helpful when he was searching for presents. He had even something to look forward to this year, as Lyn and her boyfriend had announced that they'd come over for Christmas dinner. Lewis found that shopping for presents was much more fun with the promise of delivering them in person and actually seeing the reactions of the giftee instead of posting the presents in the mail as he had done far too often in the past.

He briefly thought about buying something for Hathaway, partly as a belated thank-you for last year, and partly because Hathaway had become more than a colleague to him. But, truth be told, he wasn't sure what exactly Hathaway had become to him, and whether that entailed Christmas presents or not. With a sigh, he came to the conclusion that their office probably wasn't the place to exchange presents anyway. Besides, he had absolutely no idea what Hathaway might enjoy; the lad was awfully private. Thinking of it, Lewis realised that even while they regularly spent their free time together, he had only been in Hathaway's flat once or twice; for some reason they always ended up in pubs or at his own place.

Christmas Eve was a slow day at the police station, and for once Lewis was glad that he would be able to leave early; after all, he still needed to stock up on food and tidy up his flat.

"Visiting your family again?" Lewis asked when he had finally decided to call it a day and shut down his computer.

"Yeah," Hathaway said. "I still haven't figured out how to avoid it. Arranging a murder for us to solve seems so extreme, don't you think?"

Lewis kept to himself that he had contemplated a similar idea the year before. "It can't be that bad, can it?" he said instead.

Hathaway drew up the corners of his mouth. "Probably not. My family can just be a bit exhausting after a few hours. But I'll manage. And you, sir? Do you have any plans?"

"I'll have Lyn and her boyfriend for dinner tomorrow. Kids these days," Lewis mused. "They are seeing a bunch of other people while they're here, so they probably won't stay for long. But one takes what one can get."

Lewis got up from his desk and yawned. "Well, I'm off. Merry Christmas, James!"

"Merry Christmas, sir."

Lewis hesitated. It seemed a bit impersonal to leave it at that, especially after last year, and didn't Hathaway look as if he'd wanted to say something else? But Lewis couldn’t quite figure out what to say, so in the end he shrugged into his jacket and said his goodbyes.

* * *

Christmas dinner was all Lewis could have hoped for. Lyn had taken command of the preparations, while Lewis and Matt carried out her orders. Lewis's kitchen was far too small for three people to work in productively, and his dining table was barely able to hold all the plates and bowls. But still, it was wonderful.

Long after Lyn and Matt had left—Lewis had just finished cleaning the kitchen—the doorbell rang. Since he was not expecting anyone else, Lewis first assumed that the kids had come back, maybe to fetch something they'd forgotten, but it was Hathaway, lounging against the door-frame as usual.

"We never finished the Bond boxset," Hathaway said by way of an explanation.

"Needed an excuse to get away again?" Lewis asked as he led Hathaway in.

"Yeah."

For someone who had just escaped a tiring family party, however, Hathaway looked very pleased. Lewis opened his mouth to make a teasing remark, but then thought the better of it. He liked spending time with Hathaway, and knowing that Hathaway wanted to spend the evening with him of all people warmed his soul. Somehow, though, it seemed easier to pretend that they were just stuck together for want of better alternatives.

So Lewis shut his mouth again, took the wine bottle Hathaway had brought and opened it.

"No biscuits from Aunt Lucy this year?" he asked while pouring the wine and plating up left-overs.

"No. I guess she was disappointed that you are not my girlfriend," Hathaway replied.

"Ah," Lewis said. "I'm glad you clarified that." Nodding towards the TV, he added, "Which film will it be this time?"

"If you don't mind, sir, I'd go for another Sean Connery movie. He's quite sexy, don't you think?"

Lewis shrugged. He'd never given much thought to the sex-appeal of men, but he wasn't entirely surprised that Hathaway might have done so—or maybe he was just having him on, he wasn't quite sure.

After the first movie had ended, they never got around putting in a second one and instead spent the rest of the evening talking. Hathaway looked as relaxed as Lewis felt; he had slid down the sofa as far as possible, his head rested lazily against the back of the sofa and his long legs stretched out under the coffee-table, crossing at the ankles.

"You know, I once signed a love letter with 007," Hathaway said.

"Really?" Lewis tried to wrap his mind around the idea of Hathaway writing a love letter.

"Yeah. I thought she might find it cool."

"Did it work?" Lewis asked.

"About as well as your Barry Manilow tickets."

Lewis laughed, reminiscing about his first, very short-lived, attempt at romance. "Pity," he said.

"Not really. I didn't fancy her much. I was just doing it because all the boys were doing it."

Still smiling, Lewis got up to use the bathroom. He took the opportunity to splash some water on his face. By the time he came back, Hathaway had sprawled across the whole sofa. Lewis was about to complain, but then realised that Hathaway had fallen asleep. He didn't have the heart to wake him, so he fetched a blanket instead and tucked Hathaway in. The gesture came easily, reminding him of long-ago moments with his children.

* * *

 **When he made plans for his third Christmas in Oxford,** Lewis realised that he was beginning to view having Lyn and Matt for Christmas dinner and Hathaway for the night as his Christmas routine. He supposed that he might as well make the latter part of the day official. Armed with two cups of coffee, he entered his office where Hathaway was already at work.

"Good morning, sergeant," Lewis said and placed one of the cups on Hathaway's desk.

"Good morning, sir," Hathaway said without looking up from his computer screen. "Cheers."

"I was thinking about Christmas," Lewis said and took a sip of coffee. "Are you coming over on Christmas day again?"

Hathaway leaned back in his chair and looked at him, expressionless at first, but then breaking into a pleased smile.

"Yes, I'd like to," he said. "Same time as last year?"

Lewis nodded. "That's settled then. And Hathaway... If you are planning to stay the night, you might as well tell me so that I can fix up the spare bedding for you."

The question wasn't odd at all, since that what was you did for Christmas—invite family over to stay the night. And while Hathaway wasn't family in the strict sense, he had become a very close friend.

"I wasn't exactly _planning_ to fall asleep on your sofa, sir," Hathaway said and turned his attention back towards his computer.

Lewis slowly emptied his cup of coffee, waiting for Hathaway to continue, but it was soon clear that he had no intention of clarifying. Lewis shrugged and made a mental note to get the spare duvet out, just in case.

This year, he actually did buy a present for Hathaway since he'd have an excellent opportunity to give it to him, and he finally knew what to get. A few months ago, Hathaway had seen the box of old vinyl records Lewis had rescued from years of collecting dust. After having listened to them in a fit of melancholy, Lewis had decided that they still evoked too many memories; after all, those were the records he and Val used to listen to. Unsure of where to put the box, he had let it standing near the TV set. Hathaway had poked it and got quite excited over a Pink Floyd album, and now Lewis was searching a record shop for the CD. He hadn't been sure if young people still bought CDs these days or if they downloaded everything directly to their iPods instead, but Laura had assured him that CDs, especially when they had nice covers and leaflets, weren't entirely out of date.

* * *

Christmas dinner with Lyn and her boyfriend was as nice as it had been the year before. Lyn had tried a new recipe and the result was delicious, although Lewis had dropped the kitchen scale at some point and rendered it useless so that they had made do without. Since their time together was limited, Lewis had planned to leave the mess in the kitchen and on the dining table until the kids had departed. He was taken aback when Lyn started carrying the plates into the kitchen.

"I have plenty of time when you are gone," Lewis told her. "Let's just move to the sofa while you are still here, shall we?"

Lyn set the plates down in the sink and looked at him. "Didn't you get my text? Sarah's ill and cancelled the party. Matt and I are staying the evening before driving back."

"Oh," Lewis said, and although he was delighted to hear the unexpected news, for a second he was worrying about Hathaway.

Lyn must have seen the hesitation on his face, because she added, "Unless you have other plans?"

"No, not really. My colleague is coming over later, but it's fine." Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he rubbed his neck and grinned sheepishly. "Apparently he needs a place to recover from his exhausting family party."

Before Lewis could so much as blink, he found himself in a tight embrace. "You know, dad," Lyn mumbled against his shoulder, "I sometimes feel guilty for not visiting you more often. I'm so glad you have friends around."

Happy that Lyn had accepted the prospect of another guest so easily, Lewis helped cleaning the dining table, and between the two of them, the task was finished soon enough.

When Hathaway finally showed up, Lewis hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed that he had to endure another, if small, family party. While being a bit surprised, though, Hathaway seemed not put off. And anyway, since the kids had to drive home to Manchester the same night and thus couldn't stay overly long, there'd still be plenty of time for their obligatory Bond movie later on.

Introducing Hathaway was a bit awkward; Lewis had never introduced a good friend to a family party before.

"This is Sergeant Hathaway, my colleague," Lewis said, but of course the words were awfully formal and out of place. "Jim, this is my daughter, Lyn, and her boyfriend, Matt."

"Please, call me James," Hathaway said as they shook hands.

"Nice to finally meet you, James," Lyn said. "Dad's told me much about you."

"Really?" Hathaway threw an amused glance at Lewis. "What did he say? That I'm a cocky sod?"

Lyn grinned. "He said that you are a good copper, and that you are good on the guitar, too."

"Oh. He’s never said those things to _me_ ," Hathaway pouted.

Lewis shrugged ruefully.

"Would you like to join us for the thrills of Monopoly, James?" Lyn asked and gestured to the now-clean-again dining table, where the battered old box was waiting.

"Very much," Hathaway said, sitting down in an empty chair.

It was funny, but seeing his best friend get along so well with his daughter and her boyfriend made Lewis very happy. It finally felt like family again. Different from the time with Val, of course—Lewis wasn't sure if there'd ever be a time when he could look back at the good times he had had with Val without despairing over what he had lost—but good in its own way.

* * *

"So, do I have the seal of approval?" Hathaway asked when Lyn and Matt had left.

Lewis shrugged. "I suppose so. Not that you need it, though. You're not my boyfriend or anything."

"No," Hathaway said. "Thank God for that."

"C'mon, I'm not that bad!" Lewis said, but his indignation was more an act than anything else.

Hathaway smiled. "No, you’re not. At least you know to buy nice presents." He nodded towards the Pink Floyd CD Lewis had given to him earlier. "And, sir? Thank you for that."

"Robbie," Lewis said. "This is getting ridiculous."

While Hathaway unpacked the obligatory bottle of wine and James Bond DVD box, Lewis noticed that he had brought a backpack with him. It looked suspiciously like an overnight bag, and Lewis was glad he had the spare bedding prepared just in case. When Hathaway popped the DVD into the player, he asked, "How many years can we keep watching Bond until we run out of movies?"

"Well, there are currently twenty two movies, and if we keep watching four movies every three years, we'd need sixteen and a half years to watch them all. By that time they'd probably filmed eight more, which would last us another six years. And so on. I'm not sober, but I think the exponential function comes in to play here, sir. Robbie."

Lewis held up his hands in defiance. "That's good enough for me. Math was never my strong point. It seems like the next few years are safe, eh?"

Hathaway grinned. "I'd say so."

It was a pretty reassuring thought.


End file.
